Hail and Snow
by Runic Healer
Summary: In the dreary old orphanage of Wool's, Tom is alone and will always be. Two-shot, pre-slash TMR/HP.


-0-0-0-0-0-0-

**Hail and Snow**

It's cold and windy today. A blizzard is blazing outside, and Little Tom Riddle is all alone inside the dreary old building called Wool's orphanage.

Hail rages outside and the windows of the abandoned orphanage are frosted. Inside, there is no fire in the fireplace, nor is the heater working. The wooden floor is cold and biting, and staying still numbs the body but leaves a dull ache. Cracks litter the walls and so do black burn spots, both big and small,

_from a fire that never was_

and each one of these scorch marks are colder than the floor– touching them would numb and freeze and leave throbbing pain on the surface of the skin

_ill it reaches the bones and freezes Little Tom's marrow and his blood freezes and turns into ice_

The ceilings of the building used to have water dripping down,

_plumbing broke more than once, and it always breaks_

but before the water could make it to the floor, it would have already turned into ice

_if a person is tall enough, the icicles could poke a hole in the head_

Thick socks protect the boy's feet from the cold floor,

_but the cold always seeps through the fabric and Tom's legs would be numb and stiff_

and a jacket keeps his body warm from the air in the building

_he still shivers since the cloth is not warm enough to keep the cold away_

No one is inside the orphanage, and no one will ever be.

Except for Tom.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Tom Riddle ignores the mocking whispers and the jeers. He ignores the children's taunts and their cruel smirks.

Because he is better than them, and one day, he will show them all. They will never look down on him again. They will never push him around, call him names, call him a bastard that no one loves.

One day, he will show them all that he is better. He will show them that he is special and everyone will love him. After all, the best revenge is proving them wrong.

He will make a name for himself and he will be famous. He will find his father and tell him that he isn't lost and then …

The hail will stop for sure.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It almost never snows.

There were a few times that snowed, but that was so long ago,

_it snowed when he was younger_

and sometimes he misses it. But most of the time, he prefers the hail. Though, it was much warmer when it snowed. The snow itself was not very warm, but the cool air and soft and feathery texture of snowflakes

_of course it was, but that was so long ago now that he can't really remember the snow_

were definitely preferable to the icy sharpness and jagged spikes of hail.

As Tom walks around the lonely and dreary halls, he passes by the matron's room. In the matron's room, there is a fireplace,

_of course, there is no fire_

and there is a bulletin board, and a cabinet full of paper, pens, markers, and other materials.

When it

_so very long ago_

snowed, Tom would go to the matron's office, and he would draw. He would take a bunch of papers and he would draw everything that he wanted. Whenever he draws, he draws what he wants with all his heart and all his soul, and he hides it in a box in his room.

His special box has all of his dreams and wishes, and when they all come true, he will take that drawing out and post it on the bulletin board in the matron's room. He will post it there so that he will never forget that he wished for it and hoped that it will come true.

_except, the bulletin board is empty and Tom wants to burn all of his drawings, but he can't because all his life that's all he could ever want_

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

A strange man came today.

He said that Tom _is_ special, and that he is a wizard.

Tom would have jumped for joy. But he can't, because that would make him like the other children, and he will do everything he can to be different from them because he is _special._ What happened earlier is a proof of that. He truly is special.

But … if there is a school for people like him … then he is no longer special.

Fear grips Tom's heart. Because if there are other people like him, then he can't be the only one. Once he enters the world where he truly belongs, he will no longer be special. Here in the orphanage, he is different; but in the new world, he probably is not.

So when he enters Diagon Alley for the first time, Tom does the best he can to learn everything about this new world. One day, everyone will know his name and he will no longer just be a face amongst the masses; he will be regarded with renown, and then he will prove to the world that he exists - and maybe, just maybe…

He won't have to be alone anymore.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Back when it used to snow, Tom could still go out of building and explore the world. But he never went too far because he was afraid he'd

_he did once, and he never wanted to go back again_

get lost and get hurt.

Back when it used to snow, some people would come near the orphanage, and they would find Tom in the fields. Whenever Tom saw them, they would hurt him. When they would hurt him,

_he would try to hurt them back too, but they never showed that they are hurt at all_

he would run back to the dreary old Orphanage and lock it down.

Hail follows soon after.

_that's the only time they'd get hurt_

They didn't usually notice the difference between the hail and snow, but when they'd get hit by hail, they'd run away.

After the seventh time, Tom refused to let anyone else come near him.

_All they did was hurt him, they always come bearing fire and stones and they always tried to burn the building down. But before any serious damage would be dealt, the cold air would kill the fire and hail destroy the stones, even when they were so far away_

When he started seeing people while he was in his room, he hid in the Orphanage's basement because they couldn't get him in the dark. Outside, the hail raged and nothing was visible anymore.

There was nothing else left to see but darkness.

And Tom would cry inside because he doesn't want to stay in the darkness forever. Because it will never stop reminding him that he is alone.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Tom looks ahead with his head held high and his face showing no emotion. He has already showed the children in the orphanage that he is different, special, that he is better than they are. Now, he is showing Hogwarts that he is the best they will have ever seen, and no one else can change that.

_Yet he hears them whispering, questioning - how can a Mudblood be in Slytherin? How can someone with absolutely no wizarding background be sorted into the best and most prestigious house of all? How can the spawn of the filthiest of creatures live amongst the best and purest? How dare he taint the purity of Slytherin house, corrupt the bloodline of the Slytherin legacy?_

Their words don't affect him. They are severely mistaken if they think that mere words can harm him. Their curses and spells are obsolete against him.

Tom knows the darkest of arts and the most terrible of spells that, every now and then, they wonder if he might not be filthy at all.

In time, they learn to yield to him, but he can see it in their eyes that they only yield to him because of his power. But it won't last. As long as he is filthy, he will go nowhere, despite all of his power. He will have no place in the world because his heritage is nonexistent.

But it isn't. Tom is the heir of Slytherin, and before he graduates, the purebloods of the school now kiss the hem of his robes, and

_but even if he has most of Hogwarts under his thumb, that strange man only looks at him in disappointment. And Tom wonders what he must do to make that man stop looking at him so suspiciously; he wonders if the man hated him even when he saw him the first time, when Little Tom had been only ten years old_

everything is well.

_But it's not. Their fake smiles and fearful adoration sicken him, and the only one who can see through him hates him for all the wrong reasons. _

_Tom would give up after he graduates._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

In the orphanage, Tom never grew up.

He was like Peter Pan. He got to be young forever, and in this world, he could do anything he wanted, and

—_but unlike Peter Pan, there were no Lost Boys to be his friends, nor Wendy to be his mother, nor Tinkerbell to help him fly. But there was Captain Hook, but Captain Hook was always smug and always won—_

no one could tell him when to stop.

Sometimes, Tom wished someone would tell him to stop. Especially when he would pretend to fall asleep in the bath while it was full, or when he would pretend to fly as he jumped out the windows.

Since there is no one with Tom now, he doesn't usually do any of those things. But back when it snowed and when he was still letting other people near him, he would jump down from the roof and wait for them to tell him to stop.

_But they wouldn't, and when Tom would stand up from falling, he'd be very hurt and injured and he'd quickly rush back inside to heal. The injuries would heal, and though the pain never went away, there are no scars to see._

When he read Pan, he went to the Matron's office and drew Peter, the Lost Boys, Wendy, Tinkerbell, the mermaids, the Indians, and everyone. Even Hook.

Except, Hook wasn't smug and evil, or even a pirate. In his drawing, Hook was a jolly old man with half-moon spectacles, with red hair and a beard, and he would wear the most outlandish clothes that ranged from bright neon pink to vomit green.

And Hook's crew wouldn't be pirates, nor would they live in a ship. Instead, they would be boys and girls wearing red and gold, and they lived in a castle's tower.

In his drawing, Peter Pan won't be without his parents too. Here, they would be with him and they would be happy.

And so after Tom poured his heart out onto his paper, he hid it in the most bottom part of his special box because it was the best wish that he could have ever made.

_Except it never came true, and it would have been too late even if it did._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

He didn't cry when he killed his father and grandparents. He didn't cry when he framed his uncle, either.

Maybe his heart was so cold that the tears froze. It froze when he made his first Horcrux

_And now he wishes that he hadn't because, even though the pain he had been trying to destroy was gone, only emptiness had replaced it. It was much worse this way, because at least with the pain, he knew he was alive._

He let out a cold laugh.

He supposed that he should have expected it. After all, his father had known that his mother was pregnant. And yet Tom had been born in an orphanage. But still, Tom had clung to hope. It was likely, after all, that his mother had named him Tom because she loved his father so much. Perhaps his father had loved her just as much.

_So much for tracking his father down to meet him._

He should have stopped when he began. Tom should have stopped when he found the place where his parents had resided before his father left. Tom should have stopped when the landlord of the old shack his parents had eloped to told him his father left and never came back while his mother was kicked out and almost died in the streets of London.

Maybe Tom had expected too much, hoping that his father would be sorry for abandoning him and his mother. Perhaps he had expected too much, thinking that his uncle would be worried for Merope.

How wrong he had been.

Now, he has no other choice but to move on. If having a family means abandoning your own blood and flesh the way that his father did, then Tom doesn't want one anymore.

He would have preferred strangers that would never betray you.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

There is something missing.

And it isn't just any 'something'. It is a special something.

Some of his drawing materials are missing, and Tom is looking everywhere for them. He dares not look outside because he knows they aren't there.

But then something shocks him even more.

Some of the rooms in the building are missing. When he opens a door, there is nothing there except for blackness. It is supposed to be a bedroom, but only a black void is present. Almost half of the rooms are missing in the orphanage.

Now, some of his drawings are missing from his box.

He's looked everywhere for them. He's even upturned every piece of furniture!

Tom wants to cry because he can't find them, but he stops the tears and searches again with fierce determination.

However, along with the rooms, some of his drawing materials, and some of his drawings are completely lost. No matter what he does, he can't find them.

_But he never did try to look outside because it will be impossible to find anything out in the storm. Even if they are outside, the hail would have buried them by now._

Tom checks his box again and begins to weep.

Because the one drawing that he loves the most is gone.

The one drawing that had Peter Pan and his happy life was lost forever.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

They wonder why he chose to work in a dingy old shop in Knockturn.

Even if he manages to swindle their artifacts and heirlooms, even if he makes friends with all of the Dark families, they never stop wondering _why_.

_Because no one bothered to tell him that he doesn't need to prove that he can be great without Dark magic. And now, he he believes that, in order to be great, he needs to show everyone - and he _will_ show them._

He smiles charmingly and talks sweetly and they give him their most prized possessions just to see him smile.

_Because he has the most beautiful of smiles and the sweetest of words._

He doesn't realize that they do care now. He doesn't realize that they want to meet Little Tom. But he doesn't let them.

Now, even those with the best of intentions can't get past the hail of a façade called Voldemort.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Whenever Little Tom would see people approaching, the hail would drive them away, and he would only sigh in exasperation.

He has come to terms that no one will come for him and he is better left alone. The hail makes sure of that.

There are those that trudge through the fields, but the hail grows stronger as they get nearer.

There is one that has managed to get past the hail.

He is an old man wearing horrid robes and he has blue stars for eyes. He has managed to get past the hail and he is waiting on the porch.

Tom doesn't let him in, of course.

He can see the man from outside, and his eyes are bright with something, but Tom doesn't like it.

He doesn't like it because it reminds him of his drawings and the days that he pretended to be Peter Pan. The old man reminds him of the Hook with a kind smile and a happy face. It reminds him of that drawing, but he can't really remember everything about it because it's gone now.

Time passes by and the old man never leaves. Tom never lets him in either.

And as time passes, more and more things have gone missing in the building.

His room and the Matron's office are the only rooms left in the orphanage. All of his drawings are missing – all except for one. It's a drawing of Tom being the best in magic, but the rest of the bulletin board remains empty. His crayons, colorful pens, and colored papers are gone too. Only black and white paper remains.

He's stopped looking for them. The hail probably buried them.

And the old man never leaves. Not until -

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Lord Voldemort sneers as he kicked aside the body of James Potter. Pathetic.

His Mudblood wife falls without much of an effort …

_She'd begged him to spare her son, and he wanted her to spare her life because Tom could remember someone else who gave her life away for her son, and it hurt … it hurt so much that he wanted to tell her that she was dooming her son to a life of eternal loneliness and no one will love her son and the world will destroy itself because he can see Little Tom in the baby's eyes … Tom can see that the boy will be the next Voldemort and Harry will just be a lonely boy with no one who cares or knows who he really is …_

And when his curse rebounds from the boy, Voldemort and Tom scream because it hurts.

_It hurts so much that he wanted to die because nothing is really worth living for. He's never lived; it's so much better to die._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Tom can't go out of his room anymore. The house is still intact, but outside of his room is the black void that has filled the other rooms.

His box of drawings is empty too. He only has a vague recollection of what used to be there.

The hail outside is strong.

His room is so cold.

His blanket can offer no comfort.

Even hugging himself can't give him warmth.

He can't open his window.

The man is gone now too.

There's nothing left.

Everything that kept him company is gone now.

And now, Tom's truly alone.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

He meets Nagini ten years later. Things begin to go better, he supposes.

At least he has some company, even if it is a snake.

Then Quirrell comes along, and he meets the boy he had marked for death.

When he sees him, and sees him loved and needed and cherished, Voldemort screams deep inside.

It's not fair! Why does he get all that Tom could ever want? Why does he get everything Tom could only wish for? Why hasn't he been crushed and spat on?

It's not fair! Tom wanted these things, and then this boy gets them on a silver platter without so much as lifting a finger?

_But he doesn't. Don't you see, it looks as though he has them, but he doesn't. They don't see Harry. They just see the Boy Who Lived. Dumbledore doesn't see Harry; he sees a Tom Riddle that isn't too broken or too alone. He's not any different._

When Voldemort demands the stone and tempts the boy with the promise of his parents, he can see the boy wanting to scream with all his heart and soul, 'Yes.'

Just so he can remember what's it like to be loved.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

A year after meeting Nagini, Little Tom stood up from his bed and explored his room out of boredom.

He pulled out his box and opened it.

He cried in shock.

A big bunch of papers was there. Colorful drawings were piled inside once again.

He pulled one out and he remembered. He remembered the days he used to pretend he was Peter Pan and the days he wished for Hook to stop being smug and evil.

He pulled out his best drawing and hugged it close to his chest. Tears began to fall from his eyes, and sobs mixed with relieved laughter came out of his lips.

His body was shaking and trembling as he sobbed alone.

He fell asleep, but the room wasn't as cold anymore and he welcomed the bit of comfort that returned with gratitude.

He had never felt so grateful for that bit of warmth.

Outside, a black-haired, green-eyed boy was walking around the hail-filled land, digging around, looking for something.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Two years later, the sniveling traitor of a rat reappears, and he concocts a plan to get his body back.

_For what purpose, Tom and Voldemort can no longer remember. All that Tom knows it hurts so much, and all that Voldemort knows is that he will make them pay. He will avenge himself and hurt those that hurt him and left him when he is on the brink of disaster. _

His followers are all useless: they never dared to try to find him so that he might return.

_Who wants a madman to return in their midst, terrorizing them and their families?_

Perhaps the rat returned because he wanted to exact revenge against those that pulled him away from his hiding. Perhaps the rat doesn't know it, but his actions tell so otherwise, even if he does not realize it.

And when Voldemort rises again, he hurts them all. He hurts all those that betrayed him. He hurts the boy that turned him into a pathetic embodiment of a man he used to be.

But the boy

_Harry. His name is Harry, Tom reminds Voldemort._

doesn't flinch, nor does he cower … Voldemort wonders that he lacks pain.

_But he doesn't, he has too much of it, too; he wants to end it all._

When their wands connect in a way that nothing else can, he sees his victims rush out.

The boy's

_Harry, his name is Harry, you see him as much as you see me…_

parents actually have the audacity to return to this world and talk to him.

Why is it so unfair? Tom's parents abandoned him (his mother nearly did, anyway, and his father did without a doubt). Why is that this boy's parents are still with him after death? Why?

Why?

Why is Harry Potter loved and Tom Riddle unloved?

Why?

Why?

Why?

_And when the boy escapes, their eyes meet, but Harry Potter does not see the Dark Lord Voldemort. He sees Little Tom Riddle and there is something in his eyes that reminds him of snow._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Tom dreams of a dark corridor and wet pipes that are full of expectations and determined enthusiasm. He dreams of a boy that talks to him and tells him everything that he can and will be.

When Tom wakes up, the paper is stull clutched in his hands and the room isn't as cold before. Groggily, he stands up, but he does not let go of his drawing.

Curious, he opens the door that once led outside into the hall.

The halls are back again!

He laughs for the first time in a very, very long time, and he rushes to where he can remember the Matron's office used to be.

It's back!

He throws opens a cabinet and is overjoyed to see his old coloring materials back. Tom quickly puts his masterpiece, still clutched in his fingers, onto the table, and he grabs every bit of crayon, pen, and paper that he can.

He draws nothing. He is just so happy to see them back.

Even if they were incomplete, all that mattered is that they are there.

They haven't been truly missing.

They're back now, and Tom will do the best he can to protect them this time. Because it hurt so much when they were gone.

He can't stop the smile from forming on his face. He can't stop the tears either.

He had been so alone and dreary for so long that he is just so happy to see the familiar sights again. Before, all that mattered had gone missing; not even his imagination and dreams could keep him company anymore.

Now, he can only feel grateful for their return.

Outside, the green-eyed boy continues to endure the hail. He has not stopped digging through the fiery ice.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Voldemort is disgusted.

How can anyone give so much love for someone they've only just met?

_Then again, he never truly understood love because no one bothered to tell him what it is, what is it like and why. Why? Just why love?_

When he sends dreams to the boy and lets a bit of his hatred bleed over, he wonders why.

Why does the boy care so much for his dog of a godfather?

Why does he seek the approval of a man that will never give it to him?

Why does he continue to smile so happily even if his own blood and flesh hate him?

Why?

Why?

Why does he have everything Tom could have ever wished for? Why is it that, no matter what this boy does, no one abandons him?

The boy has already fallen, hasn't he?

Why is it that there are those that still stood by his side?

When Tom fell, no one bothered to stick around. No one even bothered to _know_ if Tom was hurt or not.

Why?

It's just not fair!

_And when Voldemort possesses the boy, and Harry remembers love, Tom cries, because for that one moment, he pretends it is for him, and it is okay._

It is worth it.

_Because in that moment, Tom feels love for the first time in his life, and it is worth everything._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

When Tom wakes up again, a lot of rooms have returned, and drawings, and his old stuff too; he is really happy about it.

He laughs as he races through the halls. The place is healing a bit.

And then he hears it. Someone is knocking.

Tom stops running.

Cautiously, Tom approaches the front door. He takes a peek outside and hides behind the door.

There is a boy.

_Harry. His name is Harry_.

"Can I come in?" Harry asks.

Tom doesn't answer, doesn't open the door any further. He is afraid to let Harry in.

"I found something outside, and I think it's yours!"

Tom doesn't reply.

Moments pass; silence is their only company. Even the hail outside is quiet.

"Um … well, if you don't want me to come in, I'll just leave it here for you. But I'll be back to get some more of your stuff!" Little Harry promises.

Tom hears heavy footfalls, the sounds of running, as Harry leaves to endure the hail, searching for Tom's lost treasures in the ice.

Tom doesn't open the door at once, but when he finally does, it isn't the sight of his old drawings that greet him.

They are drawings of a different person, items from someone else. They are a lot like his, but not exactly.

There is even a drawing that reminds him of his best one. There is another one that reminds him of a time when he wished he could fly.

Tom studies each one of them, shaking the whole time. Tears fell from his eyes.

Each one is beautiful, and he can feel every bit of hope and wish poured into each one of them.

Then he gazes at the last one. He looks at it longer than any of the others.

It has two lonely boys with all of their hopes and dreams around them, and though they have both been broken and betrayed, they are smiling together.

There is snow and leaves in the back. A mix of green, red, gold, and silver painted together in harmony. In the drawing, one-half is winter and the other half is summer. Both boys had black hair, one had deep green eyes and the other had light red. They are holding each other's hands tightly and in it, everything is okay.

Tom starts to cry.

Someone cares after all.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

When he hears of Dumbledore's inevitable death, Voldemort rejoices.

_But deep inside, Tom cries because he hasn't proved that he is better yet. He hasn't seen Dumbledore approve of him yet. Why?_

Then a letter comes.

"_To Tom Riddle,_

_In light of recent events, I am offering a negotiation._

_I don't want Dumbledore to die, or a war to start. I'm willing to do anything if you save his life and stop this war._

_We have researched about your Horcruxes, and I've managed to find information and proof that I am one of yours._

_I will tell you my terms on the first of February._

_I am willing to do anything, as long it will not make me compromise my beliefs._

_Please, I don't want anyone else to die._

_- Harry Potter"_

Voldemort rips up the message, but Tom falls to his knees crying.

Tom lets Voldemort disappear for a bit and he sits on the floor.

Here is a boy that is so much like him, yet willing to give his life to a man that has only given him pats on the back and a, 'Well done, my boy'.

_Even though he would have wanted it too …_

It's not that he still wants to stick around any longer. He actually has everything planned out. There will be an epic battle in Hogwarts, and history will end with a lonely boy finding happiness and end his suffering.

But here is that boy, trying to ruin his plans yet again.

_He should have known that Harry Potter will find a way to turn everything he is planning upside down._

Tom shakes his head.

All right, he'll listen to what Harry has to say. And when he doesn't like it, he'll just kill the boy.

_Except that he can't. He never really could. When Voldemort fired the curse, Tom did not want it. How can someone cast the Killing Curse if a part of the person does not want to? After all, a spell can't be done properly with only half the intention …_

Months later, Harry negotiates with him and they both leave feeling content.

_And for a moment, Tom is happy because he's met the boy that let him know what love is._

For a price, Dumbledore is healed, and the attacks on both sides cease.

For as long as Harry lives with Voldemort,

_and Tom_

there will be peace in the Wizarding World. Of course it won't be easy, but the Wizarding World will improve for the better for the first time in years.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The old man came back. But he did not stay for long.

He managed to get through the blizzard, but he could not endure it as much as Harry could.

He knocked too, but Tom wouldn't open the door.

He left, but he left something behind.

It takes Tom hours to manage to open the door.

He kneels down and reaches for his old things gingerly.

How did the old man

_Dumbledore_

manage to find these things? And then Tom realizes - he endured the hail.

Perhaps the reason he didn't see the old man anymore was because he was out in the hail, looking for his things.

He endured the sadistic storm just so he could find the things that Tom loves and cherishes.

For the first time in his life, Tom realizes that Dumbledore actually cares. But neither of them ever saw what the other wanted because they were both blinded by their own prejudices to see through the storm, to see through the facades.

Perhaps at one point Dumbledore could see the hail, but when he knocked on Tom's door for the first time, he was actually trying to save him.

_Then again, Tom was blinded by his own self-pity to realize he is not alone._

"I'm sorry …" Tom sobs to himself, to Dumbledore, to Harry, to the Potters, to his parents, to those that he has hurt, to everyone.

"I'm sorry …"

He embraces his hopes, dreams, and every bit of himself that had been lost, and cries.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Harry Potter is a strange one. Voldemort's patience is at its ends as he talks with the boy.

How can someone so unloved and who has lost so much be so full of love regardless? Voldemort knows that, at one point, Harry was abandoned, but he has forgiven them.

Why? Just why? How can he do that?

If Voldemort were Harry, he wouldn't have.

_Except he is Voldemort, but Tom would, like Harry did. To not forgive means you're taking them all away and you'll only be left alone._

"Here." Harry sets a cup of tea onto Voldemort's table in his study.

It was already late, and Harry should be asleep, but he isn't. Instead, he's keeping the Dark Lord company.

"Go to bed, brat," he orders.

Harry smiles and sits down in a chair. Voldemort glares at him.

"I'm not sleepy." How can Harry smile like that?

How can Harry smile at him?

Why?

Better yet, how can Harry find it in his heart to forgive him?

How can he smile at the person that took everything away from him and forgive him?

Why does Harry continue to talk to him so much … without any hint of malice or hatred in his words?

Why does he continue to smile at him with so much honesty, despite of all the things that Voldemort has done?

He doesn't _understand._

_But Tom is thankful. Because he wouldn't know how to act if Harry hated him. He doesn't even know if he could live with that. But the truth is, Tom understands, and Harry understands too._

"So, Tom—"

"Don't call me that!"

"When are you going to bed?" Harry leans in.

"I'm not. _You_ go to bed this instant, Potter." Harry just relaxes in his chair.

"Glad to know you care!" Harry singsongs. Voldemort growls at Harry.

"I don't care! You're distracting!"

_But that's not true. Tom really does care, and for some reason, he is thankful that Harry can see past Voldemort and forgive him._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Harry knocks on the door again.

"I found everything!" he shouts happily, grinning.

Tentatively, Tom opens the door to take a peek. He sees Harry carrying everything else he has lost and a lot of other things he hasn't even seen before.

"Can I come in? It's a little cold out here."

Tom hesitates and looks out at the raging blizzard. Slowly, he opens the door.

Harry smiles and comes in, kicking his shoes outside the porch. "Thanks, Tom! It means a lot!"

Tom looks away, shy.

_Ashamed, guilty, and a lot of other things because he has done so much to hurt Harry, but here he is, smiling at him._

"Isn't this place a little lonely?" Harry cocks his head curiously.

Tom shakes his head.

_He wants to say yes, it is lonely. He is so lonely that he actually threw away everything important to him and now he's so, so sorry._

"Here, I'll keep you company!" Harry promises. Tom looks up, surprised.

"Why?" Tom asks.

_But please, don't go …_

"Because you're my friend, and you're important to me." Harry smiles.

Tears begin to form in Tom's eyes.

Harry … every word he says means so much to him. It's the first time someone has told him that he matters. That he is important.

Unable to contain himself, he lets the tears fall.

Then shock invades his senses. Harry is hugging him.

The items in his hands are floating right behind him, but Harry …

It's the first time someone's hugged him.

Harry is hugging him so tight, yet so lovingly that the shock wore off and he returned the hug.

"Thank you," Tom says, pouring every bit of his heart and soul into those two little words.

"Thank you," Harry replies, his words full of sincerity and love and many more emotions that words cannot describe.

And then Harry is crying too, and outside that lonely building, the hail storm slowly stops and snow begins to fall.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It's cold and windy today.

Snow is falling softly from the sky, and the smell of peppermint and ginger fills the air.

Inside a small and warm cottage lives two boys.

The floors are made out of wood, cool against bare feet, but not so much that it numbs the skin. Fire roars in the fireplace and heat embraces the walls. Each room is cozy and homely.

If you ask the boys, they'd say their favorite rooms are their bedroom and a small office with a bulletin board.

In the bulletin board, drawings of hopes and dreams that came true are pinned onto it.

The bulletin board is a beautiful sight, because each color lives harmoniously with the next in the beautiful collage. Each scene has a special meaning to the boys, and each picture is full of wishes and faith.

In the very center, two pictures stand out the most.

One is of Peter Pan and the citizens of Neverland. Even Hook was there.

Hook is a jolly old man with a kind face and a very long and white beard. Hook's crew are men and women that were separated at one point, but have been reunited for a good cause.

Even Peter's parents were there. They both love Peter, and Peter loves them too.

Wendy is a wild but motherly woman that supports him no matter how hard times are. Tinkerbell has always been a rival to Wendy for Peter's attention, but now she is happy because he is happy. The Lost Boys are men and women of all ages, and they will never abandon him.

Next to the drawing of Peter Pan is a drawing of two boys.

Both have been unloved, broken, and abandoned; but now they have found the friends that will care for them, families that will cherish them - and each other.

And in each other, they have found love.

They now live in the small cottage, but they are never lonely. Friends and family visit them, others regularly, some occasionally.

Sometimes, the boys go out to visit others.

Sometimes, they stay inside the cottage all day.

Other times, they play in the snow.

Even with the snow outside, they never get cold, and if they do, they find warmth in each other.

Here, the air is refreshing, and the night is cozy and warm.

Here, the house is aged, but it never is old and it will never fall apart.

Here, Tom Riddle and Harry Potter are happy, and they will always be.

**Fin.**

**Notes:** There are a lot of other things that are supposed to be added, but I decided to make a companion piece instead.

The companion piece will be titled as "Storms and Rain". That one will be about Harry. Then another piece… What the?

This turned into a three-shot… not that I'm complaining… Anyways, I would like to thank ladyoflilacs as my beta reader. You are awesome.

I would also like to suggest joining the Facebook group- Voldemort/Harry slash, and www[dot]HarryMort[dot]com. It is a site for HP/LV fans alike. There are forums, chatrooms, recommendations, links, and many more. Also, try contacting LordVoldemort777 for further details.

Thank you for reading, and reviews will make me twice as happy.


End file.
